Alone in the Dark
by Muchadoaboutnada
Summary: His horrid yellow eyes find her, always find her, and always when she's weak.
1. Chapter 1

In her sleep, she calls out to him. Subconsciously, but still she reaches. He's like a bad habit, something hard to kick though she knows how he pulls her away from all she loves in her waking hours.

His terrible, _burning_ eyes search for her in every room, seek her across every galaxy. They find her sometimes, too. Those nights are the most confusing, though her path lay clear as day before her. She knows, deep in her heart, that she will not kill him. She _can_ not.

She thinks, perhaps, that this is as close to love as she will ever feel.

And so, she seeks him. Always.

He feels her when she yearns, this accursed pathway. He'll forever curse whatever powers bound them together, and yet he cannot find it within himself to seek an answer. He cannot force himself to tell Hux, nor any of his trusted advisers. But he'll not allow himself honesty when he asks himself why.

He's afraid they'll find a way to break it.

That he'll never again feel the piercing agony of her hate, and that undercurrent of something sweeter, something…well, not quite hate. He can't put a name to it. But it's more precious to him than any drug.

Though, of course, he does loathe her. The way she clings to the light. It isn't in her nature, but will she listen? Of course not. She clings, like a child to a doll, to the idea, not that she is inherently good in her soul, because of course that is true, but that the Rebel alliance is anything more than the worst in the galaxy taking advantage of her brightness. They'll hunt down everything in her that is truly good and just, and replace it with an apathy that would see the galaxy burn before a ruler take control.

He hates her, truly. And he will never be rid of her, not of his own free will.

One day at mess, Rey is more reserved, quieter than usual. More focused on something her companions cannot see. She picks at her food, and ignores one too many questions until Finn knocks her hand from beneath her chin and she nearly topples into her rations.

"What gives?" he asks, "You've been a million light-years away today."

She offers a small smile but pushes her lunch away. "I think I'm going to go train, got too much on my mind today to do much else."

Finn hops up across the table with a grin. "I'll join you!"

Rey forces a grimace from her face and shakes her head. "Finn, I'm too out of it today. Maybe tomorrow? Just let me spar with a droid today, okay?"

He rolls his eyes but nods anyway. "Sure thing, Rey. Get whatever's going on out of you."

She heads off towards the armory, intent on wearing herself out. A night's sleep will do her good, she thinks.

Kylo reclines in the throne, considering whether or not he can sneak away from his advisers and Hux. He'd give nearly anything for an afternoon alone in his TIE fighter—he's not been flying for ages.

As he lounges, sullen, the familiar creeping sensation fills the space behind his eyes and it's all he can do not to let them roll back. What had once felt like a budding headache now fills him with a pleasure, a peace he craves.

Today, though, it's not peace that she brings him; it's war.

Her presence is fury today, all storms and hatred. It's almost more than he can stand, though of course he'll try. He wonders if she can feel him too, today, or if he can probe deeper. Shall he risk it?

He thinks he will.

He tries to let his mind wander into hers, slowly, without any plans or designs. Along the way, he sees flashes of her surroundings, what looks to be a sparring floor. He hopes she isn't fighting anything that can feel pain, for even he can feel the intensity of her blows as they land.

He pushes against one of the stronger feelings, he thinks it might be anger, though it's tinged with something else. He thinks she's confused.

He finally gets a look at the droid she's fighting as it lands a blast on her upper thigh. She howls with a rage that rattles his bones and he fights the urge to sink deeper into that feeling.

Her pride wounded more than her body, she whirls in on herself and takes a breath to steady herself. It does little for her emotions but her hands cease to shake.

Kylo pushes further, needing to understand.

Almost without his realizing, and certainly against his conscious will, his mind asks hers a question and his physical self flinches, knowing that this is the end of this voyeuristic venture. Usually, he would pull into himself again, rather than receive the full brunt of her rage, but today, he decides to chance a conversation, if she can be tricked into making one.

_What are you fighting for?_ he asks as gently as he's able.

He feels her emotions swirl around him in an incomprehensible storm of hate and rage and sadness, and he knows that if she could reach him now her intent would be murder.

Some small part of him wants to let her try—he's never felt more alive than when she tried to kill him.

Her mind finally settles enough for her to see straight and though for a moment the room swirls around her, she stays on her feet, squeezing her eyes shut against the torrent of the worst feelings in her body all rushing towards her at the same time. She feels as if she may drown under the weight of them.

Finally, through the storms, she can pinpoint her focus on a monster with yellow eyes who seems almost too real to be in her mind. He looks shocked for an instant, shock giving way to some kind of smug interest and for a split second, she can't help herself. All of her training melts away and she lunges towards him, her one and only goal to put her hands around his horrid throat.

She'd give anything to kill him.

Kylo's smirk upon seeing the recognition in her eyes vanishes in a flash when her very real corporeal form springs at him out of the ether and slashes across his face with a very real hand.

When her hand makes contact with his flesh, Rey's breath leaves her lungs in a single gust, and she falls to the ground with his skin under her nails and his howl in her ears.


	2. Chapter 2

_I can't breathe, I can't fucking BREATHE, what's happening to me? _Rey's heart pounds wildly in her ears with no discernable rhythm and her eyes roll around in her sockets, trying desperately to make sense.

Facts. She needs to list the facts. Her hand stings and the room is dark and there's an animal nearby. She doesn't know where she is but it isn't where she was.

No. No, that's not right. Not an animal.

Her eyes focus on the room around her, the stone walls and dark tapestries, the insignia of the Empire. The throne.

And the man, knelt at her feet and howling in pain.

All at once, and with the sensation of pulling a loose thread back into a stitch, her senses sharpen and she realizes the enormity of what's happened. She doesn't know how, but somehow, she's found herself in the Imperial throne room, alone. Her chest heaving, she takes a wild step back, somehow remaining on her feet, though for a moment she thought she'd fall.

Her only thought was that she needed as much space as possible before Kylo realized what had happened as well.

Kylo Ren pulls his hand away from his face, fingers stained with his blood. She'd caught him with her fingernails, cutting deep into scar tissue not nearly healed enough to withstand. His eyes find hers, terrible and full. It surprises him, it does, to find her eyes above his, his shock at having been struck momentarily overshadowed by his shock at finding himself on his knees.

He draws himself up, shakily at first, then with fury flooding his veins and steadying him.

The thought comes again. _I can't breathe._ Rey feels her chest tighten and fear overtakes her. The urge to run overwhelms her body for a split second before the hulking monster before her lunges forward. She realizes, in an instant, that he doesn't have his saber, though neither does she.

Blood drips down his face as it twists into a sneer, hand reaching for, she thinks, her throat.

Now, Rey's survival instincts have been honed by years of barely scraping by in a desert, and by months of barely escaping the First Order and this accursed beast. But in that instant, all she can think to do is scream.

"Stop!" she shrieks at loudly as she can, throwing her hands up in front of her face.

And…he does.

A wave of confusion crosses his face, mixing with blood. He slowly lowers his hand, though he remains a looming threat above her. Her hands covering her face shake.

"Are you afraid?" he asks softly, almost incredulously.

The question pulls Rey up short. "What?" she hisses through clenched teeth, dropping her hands and slowly standing up straight.

He passes the back of his hand over his brow, wiping away blood. His face breaks for just a moment; she's cut him deeper than he first thought.

"You're wearing your nails long now. I didn't think they allowed that."

He's never really seen someone _visibly_ bristle before, but her shoulders rise to around her ears, her eyebrows furrow down nearly into her eyes, and her teeth audibly snap shut. Her face is the loveliest shade of crimson, he finds himself thinking.

"Fuck off. They don't tell me what to do-I'm not a dog," she snaps. She's trying desperately just to hold herself together, no longer sure she could win the fight. She just needs to keep it together long enough to get back home.

"Not a dog? So, no longer a member of the Resistance, then?"

Her resolve breaks almost instantly and she flies at him, hoping to deepen the scratch on his face, still dripping blood. Nearly blind with rage, she miscalculates. He easily knocks her shoulder as she lands, unbalancing her.

She doesn't fall at first. But she does fall.

Her breath leaves her again, and her head swims. The room goes dark but for a small, dim light somewhere above Kylo's head. Rey's hand goes instantly to the back of her head, fearing a gash or a concussion, but feeling nothing.

She struggles to pull herself up to her feet again, but as she moves to her hands and knees, Kylo plants his boot squarely against the same shoulder and pushes, knocking her back to the floor. He then squats before her, grinning fiercely.

"Looks familiar."

Her head hurts. She realizes slowly that her gritted teeth are hurting her jaw. A bruise will bloom across her shoulder where she fell, but not the shoulder that Kylo kicked. She takes a deep breath.

"Where am I, Ren?" she hisses, trying to keep as much anger and hatred as she can from her voice. She needs him to answer, and, petty and arrogant as he is, he won't answer if he feels insulted. Bastard.

She looks around as much as she can. On a closer look, she actually doesn't think this is the throne room. Much as she hates to admit it, she's peered into his thoughts more than once, she thinks unnoticed by him. She knows what the throne room looks like, and this feels unfamiliar.

"I don't know, scavenger. But I think we're alone."


End file.
